In Gaza, motherhood does not exist separately from fear. It unfolds inside it — even now, during what is called a ceasefire. I think about this when I speak to my mother from a distance. I try to picture her day as she shares it with me, and the parts of it she doesn’t. The effort it must take to keep going — to care, to cook, to reassure, while carrying a weight of exhaustion — is hard to…

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